Out Of Water
by Moonlit Dreaming
Summary: Leaving her home is especailly painful for Leia. Not only is she alone, seperated from loved ones, she's all too aware of how different she is from those around her. Entry for Village Square contest. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **Harvest Moon is not mine.

**Author's note: **Well, here goes my first attempt at the Village Square's contest. The theme this time was 'A New Place' and this is my take on it. I hope you all it enjoy it! It took a slightly different path to the one I expected, but I'm pretty pleased with the final result.

Out Of Water

_Breathe... Breathe... Just focus... on - on that... Just breathe..._

_As my thoughts whirled away from me in a sickening kaleidoscope of colours, the remains of my concentration went with them. Surely you shouldn't have to concentrate to breathe? That can't be good, r - right?_

_Ohhh... My chest thudded jaggedly, painfully as I struggled for my next breath. Several agonising gulps and one wheezing cough later, and water spurted messily down my chin. Water... how _stupid!?

_Breeaathe... Please..._

_I didn't even know where I was. Certainly not where I was supposed to be. Darkness. All around. Everywhere..._

_Then... footsteps? I heard _something_ approaching and my first, my strongest instinct was to move. _

_But it was only then, when I tried so desperately to, that I realised I couldn't._

* * *

"Well," I said carefully. "It's different, isn't it?"

I took it from Daryll's less than thrilled expression that he'd expected a much more enthusiastic response than the one I gave. By which I mean, his face fell at least five feet and he gave a near perfect impersonation of a disgruntled catfish. Still, what should I have said? That of _course_ you can compare the wonderful, wide expanse of open ocean with a tiny metal tank in some cramped, dingy basement?

It would make him happy, true, but it would still be one huge lie. And anyway, Daryll seemed like a pretty smart guy... in other words, not stupid enough to believe _me._

Ignoring the constant ache in my chest and Daryll's slightly hurt expression, I plunged beneath the water's surface and found myself beautifully immersed in it. I spun effortlessly onto my back, swirled and twisted easily in the limited space I had. For a moment I was home.

Only not.

As I lay on my back, my eyes focused not on pure, blue skies or a canvas of stars, but strange grey tiles, each exactly alike. That is to say perfectly square and perfectly dull. I surfaced suddenly and let out a despondent sigh.

Then I noticed Daryll had left and I allowed myself to sigh again. Louder.

A few days ago, when my body burned with nothing but pain and I could barely bear to move, relief overrode everything else. It didn't matter that I was injured or hundreds of miles from home - all that mattered was that I was alive. I was safe against all the odds.

Now though...

I don't want to be ungrateful and I'm _not, _not really... but it's so difficult. My eyes darted restlessly around his mad, mad basement. There were... _things_... so many things, dotted all around me in a most haphazard fashion. Yes, I know my description is highly inadequate, but I am, quite literally, a fish out of water here. Are they... _books?_ Chairs and tables even? You honestly can't believe it until you've seen it; it's pure myth.

I may as well be on another planet here. Home is fast becoming a memory and - I can admit it now - I'm truly scared.

Daryll's nice enough, sure, _and_ he saved my life - but I don't know him, do I? And we're not the same, nothing will change that. I'll admit it's fascinating to see a real live human - I never _knew_ they looked so severe and dressed in long, white cloaks - but I'm sure the novelty will soon wear off -

Holy starfish! I've just had a thought: what if the novelty wears off for _him?_ What if he finds something better to house in his basement and I'm thrown back to the mercy of the sea before I'm strong enough? I'll be washed up again, surely, and I can't cope with that.

Please don't make me cope with that.

* * *

After fourty-seven excruciatingly long days - and I counted meticulously, believe me - I met my second ever human. His name was Jack and it was upon meeting him that I realised not _all_ humans dress all in white and let their hair explode in all directions. Daryll, it seems, was the exception, not the rule.

He wandered over to me calmly, slightly too slowly, as though trying to mask some deep shock. I flew against the back wall of my bath tub, spraying water everywhere unnecessarily. "Who - who - " I gasped, "Are you a friend of Daryll's?"

He nodded to reassure me, while my thoughts flew into overdrive. Despite my reservations, I drank in the new arrival completely. As I said, he and Daryll were nothing alike. Not in the slightest. They were the same _species, _clearly, but the differences were certainly there. Jack's eyes weren't shielded by those weird glasses like Daryll's were. They were so unusual to me, all deep and dark brown. And his hair was the same colour.

Our first meeting was nothing less than cagey, I'll admit.

He'd always deny it, of course, but he only really came to 'see the mermaid'. And I was in no mood to trust.

By our rather unexpected second meeting, I'd relaxed considerably. As soon as I heard footsteps descending towards the basement, I paddled eagerly to the edge of the tank, hoping it would be Daryll with a plate of fish.

So imagine my surprise, then, when Jack's tall form ducked into the room.

"Come for another gawp?" I _wanted_ to ask. Only... the smile he offered was so genuine, my words simply died before my lips could form them.

As it turned out, he actually had a little gift for me. A necklace - made out of _silver,_ of all things! I stared at the little treasure sat on my damp palm, trying hard to hide my disappointment. Didn't he realise it would only rust?

"Well, put it on then." Evidently not.

During that second meeting, I couldn't help wondering if Jack and I were _too_ different. He talked to me for ages, like an old friend would, but most of it rushed straight over my head. "I farm for a living," he explained, and I think I was supposed to be impressed. "You know, cows and chickens and all that."

But I didn't know.

When he left, a few hours later, a strange, dull fog fell over me. I couldn't tear my eyes from the doorway, not for ages. Visitors _weren't_ supposed to have that effect, I reminded myself somewhat bitterly - though _he_ certainly did. After a pause I shook my head and ducked beneath the surface of my mini-ocean, my only sanctuary, with the necklace still hung gaudily around my neck.

* * *

The nightmares of that eerie storm stopped eventually. Daryll and I fell into a comfortable routine and Jack became something of a regular visitor - much to my amazement. Even the sharp longing for home seemed to ease just a little.

As my first winter in Forget-Me-Not Valley - the village's name - approached, I noticed that Jack's visits were becoming increasingly frequent. It didn't bother me too greatly, though; I was in too good a mood to let anything bother me.

When winter set in, I was in my element. The temperature in Daryll's basement plunged dramatically, leaving the water bitingly cold with a real bitter edge to it. Just like the ocean. Just how I liked it.

It was an icy morning towards the end of the season when Jack wandered in nervously. I didn't notice him at first, too engrossed in watching my breath rise like mist in the air and laughing stupidly because I _still _expected to see bubbles. _Even_ after all those weeks.

Jack pulled up a chair silently. "Leia?" he said eventually.

"Mmm?" I turned to face him, then jumped and giggled again at noticing the expression on his face. He was practically _white._ "Jack... are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he answered quickly, throwing me headfirst into confusion. That wasn't like Jack. Usually he could barely _stop_ talking. About his farm, the latest funny trick he'd taught his dog, what _exactly_ the weather was doing and so on... and on. Some days he even had a small present to hand over; today his hands wound anxiously together.

I bobbed closer, wrapping my fingers tightly around the rim of the bath tub, and asked again, "Jack?"

He merely shook his head. "It's nothing to worry about, Leia. Honestly." Suddenly - and most impulsively, I thought - he leaned towards me, as though about to grasp my hand, before falling back into his seat like it had never happened.

Shocked, I said nothing.

"Leia, I - I just - " A frustrated sigh. "I - I'm probably waaay off here, okay, but is there any chance - " Another pause. "I mean, there's this celebration coming up, you see, and - "

Some vague memory stirred within me and Jack's words finally slid into place. "Starry Night?" I enquired, then watched as his face glowed from ghostly white to pure crimson.

"How do you... ?"

"I heard Daryll talking about it," I explained, offhand, spinning around in the water in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I think he was wanting to ask the girl he's stalking."

Once again the air filled with the heavy weight of silence. This time it was of the dictinctly shocked, embarrassed variety. "I don't think I'll ask," Jack decided wisely. He focused on me again, meeting my eyes and refusing to look away. "So how about it, Leia?" he asked me softly. "Would you like to watch the stars with me? It's traditionally an indoor festival, but I thought you'd like to see the sky. From the beach... maybe?"

I knew my answer straight away - even over the drumroll in my chest and the whirl of my thoughts. It was simple. Images flashed through my head. A clear, starlit night, the sweet, salty scent of the sea, the wind siwrling by... And then Jack. He was last to enter my mind, but as I mulled it over, I realised he was far, _far _higher on my list of priorities than I'd ever cared to acknowledge. So, in that respect, my answer was pretty obvious.

But suddenly, surprisingly, before I could even open my mouth, my mother's image surfaced unexpectedly at the forefront of my mind. I knew what _she'd_ tell me to do in this situation. I smiled to myself.

Looking up, then down and all the while refusing to meet his eyes, I pretended to think his question over intently. "Can I please give it some thought, Jack?" I asked him carefully. "I'll tell you tomorrow, okay?"

His eyes flashed with regret, before, I noted victoriously, filling with something close to determination. "That's fine," he nodded, standing slowly. "I'll be back tomorrow morning, okay? Ten on the dot." He walked over to the steps, then waved at me. "Bye Leia."

"Bye," I whispered after him, breaking into a sudden, huge grin as I remembered my mother again.

_Some things,_ I thought with a wry smile_, are universal. _


End file.
